


Terrior

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), he is adopted, no infinity war spoilers, technically post infinity war too if you squint, thor/loki “incest”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 08:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14589117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Thor thinks, for a moment, that he can actually feel the heat of Loki’s magic inside him. The warmth radiating inside his chest, over his bones and heart. He closes his eyes and listens to the sound of Loki’s voice reaching every corner of his interior.





	Terrior

If he’s being honest, Thor does not think that his brother will stay. Loki had come to him, looking solid and real, and had proven that he was there. As Asgard had crumbled around them he had wondered if Loki was still there, still on the surface of the planet waiting to be engulfed in flame. A final good deed that would warrant gold statues and parades in his name.

 

Thor had stood by the ship’s window, looking out at the stars and feeling his heartbeat quicken and slow over and over again, worry and acceptance seeping into every part of him. 

 

A heartbeat and,

 

_ He’s gone. _

 

And another beat and it’s,

 

_ He’s not. He cannot be gone. Not again. _

 

Then, Loki had entered the room and Thor could hardly believe the way his heart had simply forgotten to beat. It wasn’t unusual, though. Thor had felt this so many times. For many years Thor has been aware of the murmur in his heart, that skipped beat.

 

He thinks the hole appeared the first time Loki faked his death, falling from sight and into the endless expanse of the universe. Falling forever, and taking a piece of Thor with him. 

 

Or, it could have been from the feeling of Loki’s body cold under his fingers. The murmur came with the ache of his chest as he carefully braided a lock of Loki’s hair into his own, watching with tired and red rimmed eyes, his own reflection.

 

Or, really, the ache had always been there, from their first years together in Asgard. 

 

Even when they were young and Loki was cutting Thor’s hair as he slept or finding new and clever ways to stab him, Thor’s heart leapt at the attention. Loki was always a beauty to behold, and proficient from a young age at magic. And his abilities only growing as they got older. Thor, on the other hand, has always been: rough hands and calluses, swords and hammers, and the unknowable energy at the core of his being.

 

Thor cannot remember a day growing up when he didn’t have blood caked somewhere on him, but Loki was always clean and shining. He was always playing the part of the studious princeling, soft and beautiful and charming, before convincing Thor that they should do some bit of mischief that landed them in hot water. Loki goaded him, always wanting someone to play along, to follow him into something he was too scared to do by himself, or something he was going to get in trouble for. Punishment is less harsh when halved. 

 

Thor would concede that Loki was - is - probably his biggest weakness. 

 

When he was with Loki, Thor didn’t care if things were always bad, or only just sometimes bad. To him, Loki being there with him was the most important part of any of their undertakings. Even later, when things on Earth were at their worst, Thor could not bring himself to deal with Loki in a way that would satisfy the others. He had already told himself that this was half his fault, and he was willing to bear his half of the punishment.

 

Now, Thor is happy Loki has returned to Asgard once more. Even if it is only people on a ship. Even if it means dealing with consequences, something that Loki has always taken issue with. 

 

Thor doesn’t know if he can take the retribution of Ragnarok without Loki by his side. So much of everything is gone now. Loki feels like a spectre too, ready to disappear. Thor furrows his brow, thinking about how solid Loki had felt in his hands.  His energy has always been more kinetic, ready to move. To run.

 

Loki is silent next to him, watching the dark expanse of the universe pass them by. The silence goes on for too long, almost deafening. Thor’s whole body feels like a current now, and he cannot shake the feeling of lightning under his skin. He needs something to focus his powers with. He turns slightly, to put his good eye on Loki. 

 

“You are still A Son of Odin,” Thor says, reassuring him, speaking like their father would. Words upon words to convey one single thing. 

 

They are true though, as numerous as they are, and Thor wants to keep Loki as long as he can. He knows that the Asgardians do no favor Loki as they do himself.  Loki’s back is stiff, and he does not look at Thor when he speaks. Thor wonders if Loki is afraid, or if he is just unsure.

 

The words hang between them for a long time. Thor feels like he can hear Loki’s thoughts. In reality, he knows he never will be able to read Loki the way Loki can read him. 

 

“And you are the rightful king of Asgard,” Loki says, finally turning to look at his brother. His eyes search Thor’s face and his body, running over every inch of him before turning back toward the cold universe outside. He scoffs, “You even look like him now.”

 

Thor feels his skin spark again, and he sighs. “You can leave if you are unhappy, brother. Do not think that I am of a mind to keep you here.” Thor feels his gut flip at the words, but they are true. They are no longer of the same path. He accepted this back on Sakaar, and the truth of it lingers between them.  He is no longer a boy following black hair through bright halls toward trouble. 

 

Loki huffs and turns on his heel, leaving the room without a goodbye. Thor feels a sensation he cannot describe. 

 

His heart murmurs,

 

_ He will go. _

 

Thor looks over his shoulder to watch the gold of Loki’s cape disappear through the door before it shuts. 

 

* * *

 

Thor does not expect to see Loki in his room.

 

Thor would be lying if he said the sight is unwelcome. After their exchange of words, Thor expected Loki to leave. Especially because Thor is unsure about the rest of the population's reaction to Loki’s continued un-glamoured presence on the ship. He fears the worst.

 

Yet, Loki is seated at the edge of the beautiful four poster bed, ankles crossed and hands planted firmly behind him on the mattress. He is smiling, but for once not in a way that gives Thor pause. He simply seems pleased to see his brother.

 

“Hello, Loki,” Thor greets, studying his brother's form on the bed and feeling the familiar sensation of excitement as his pulse quickens. 

 

Thor is not sure when the lust began. Perhaps when they came of age around the same time and Thor began to see the way Loki changed. Later he remembers comparing Loki to Sif - dark hair and soft, pale skin - and Loki’s image eventually encompassing his thoughts of anyone else.

 

Homosexuality is not illegal among Asgardians, but some do not approve. Some hold old views. People still pass around the word  _ Ergi  _ like a curse.  _ Unmanliness. _ A word that Thor had heard others use in reference to Loki more than once. A word that carried a certain connotation, an implication. A word whispered among warriors with smirks and laughter as Loki passed, books cradled under a thin arm. Sometimes more than smirks, more than laughter. Sometimes, a look that Thor had only seen men give women after drinking mead in the halls in celebration. 

 

It is something Thor wishes he had known then, what was being implied.

 

Now, looking at Loki’s lithe body, lounging on the edge of the bed, Thor feels his stomach pitch heat and tighten. He finds himself wondering how many of those warrior men had tried to make Loki bow to them as they would a woman. Thor tries to steady his heart against the image.

 

Instinctively, he goes to a table and begins to fidget, trying to find a way to occupy his hands and therefore his thoughts. His impulses.

 

Thor must have been an easy read from a young age. Too much energy, and nothing to focus on. Thor thinks that now, if he had Mjolnir, he would turn the handle over in his palm until it was raw.

 

Thor pours himself a drink from one of the many lavish decanters and slowly turns the glass over in his hand. He does not drink though, instead focusing on the way the liquid moves inside the glass. When Thor looks up, Loki is still watching him with those gleaming blue eyes and that cat-like smile.

 

“Loki, I do not wish to play games with you today,” Thor finally says when Loki clearly isn’t going to speak.

 

Loki sits up and then stands fully, he brings his hands together and looks down at them before wringing them slightly and looking back up at Thor.

 

Thor feels the worry climb higher in his chest. 

 

“I wanted to tell you that I’m going,” Loki says and his words are measured, almost stilted. 

 

“Loki -- ” Thor begins but his brother stops him, speaking over him.

 

“Thor. I am not wanted here. I am certainly not necessary. I am… a burden, if anything, to you and the rest of our people.” 

 

Loki is talking with his hands again, a habit that Thor has somehow only recently noticed. Maybe it is something that comes with using magic. 

 

“‘Our’,” Thor murmurs, looking down at the glass in his hand. 

 

“What?” Loki asks, taking a step closer to Thor as he speaks.

 

“You said ‘our’,” Thor says and he knows when he looks up at Loki that his one good eye is soft and shining. 

 

“Oh, don’t,” Loki scoffs and crosses his arms, scowl forming on his face. “You absolutely know what I mean.”

 

“Why are you doing this, Loki? You’re always trying to run away from your place,” Thor says, as serenely as he can manage while moving closer to Loki, stepping into his personal space and offering him the glass of liquor. 

 

Loki takes the glass and drinks it down in one single gulp, adam's apple bobbing as he does. Thor watches the way his pale neck works and his stomach erupts in another burst of heat. He clears his throat, and Loki hands the glass back to him. 

 

“My place?” Loki’s voice sounds faintly hoarse when he speaks, the burn of the alcohol leaving something behind. “They have no love loss for me. They have their  _ true one _ , Thor.”

 

“True one?”

 

_ “Sönnungr _ ,” Loki says and the kenning feels like a spell inside Thor. Loki’s bright eyes snap up to glare at him through heavy, dark lashes and Thor takes a half step back. Loki moves a half step forward. Thor feels his muscle go taut.  “They whisper it amongst themselves, these Norn prophecies and kenning names. They are enamoured with you, and once again I am nothing.”

 

“Loki --” Thor sputters, for the second time, as he tries to take another step back. Loki follows him, a step in return for every one of his.

 

“ _ Ergi _ ,  _ jötunn _ , ” Loki bites each word off as he backs Thor into a wall, watching as he bumps his head against the metal. “They mean for me to leave. They wish it. They despise me. I returned for you, for them, and they --” Loki’s voice breaks off, and Thor feels his heart sink. 

 

“Loki, they cannot make my decisions for me. I ask you to stay. I beg you.” Thor feels his voice break as he says it. His heart murmurs when the words leave his mouth; he thinks he has put the final nail in the coffin. Loki will not stay if Thor is to be so sentimental with him. 

 

He speaks again, more quietly now, “Our people will see you for who you are now. You have made your decision. You have met me on the path of Asgard again. Father would be proud.”

 

Thor is surprised that Loki seems taken aback by the admission. He reaches out and brushes Loki’s cheek with his fingertips. 

 

“We will be together. We will rule together. I need you,” Thor pauses and then, “I love you.”

 

Loki’s eyes meet Thor’s one good one, and he licks his lips. “Prove it.”

 

Thor barely registers that he has dropped the glass he was holding as his hands come to Loki’s face, grabbing him and yanking him into a kiss. Thor expects him to pull away and to sputter, or to stab him, but instead Loki melts into it, hands coming up to hold Thor’s wrists. 

 

There is a brief fight for dominance in the kiss before Loki acquiesces, and lets Thor take the lead. Thor is thankful for it and walks Loki backward as he kisses him, toward the big bed in the center of the room. He focuses on the sounds of Loki’s breath, coming in soft gasps between kisses as he does, until they reach the bedside.

 

It does not take much for Thor to lift Loki up and onto the bed. The ease with which he does it almost startles Thor himself. It’s as if Loki was meant for it. 

 

Thor blushes at the thought and climbs onto the bed too, moving between Loki’s legs. He sits back on his heels, looking at the way Loki’s hair has fanned out in black tendrils on the pillows. “What?” Loki demands, after Thor has gone on staring for too long. 

 

“Your hair is long now,” Thor remarks, absently, and Loki rolls his eyes. 

 

“Shall I…?” Loki gestures vaguely toward his clothes and Thor shakes his head.

 

“Allow me this, at least,” Thor requests, as he reaches up and begins undoing the fastenings of Loki’s tunic. Loki lays his head back on the pillow and looks up at the four poster canopy as Thor works, chewing his own lip in thought. 

 

“How long have you wanted this?” Loki asks, finally, as Thor moves to stand at the foot of the bed and begin removing Loki’s boots.

 

“Some time, I suppose,” he admits, face heating, but he feels the answer will not satisfy Loki, who simply hums in response.

 

Thor drops Loki’s boots to the floor with twin thuds and traces his gaze back up Loki’s form to his face. He is laying back on his elbows, clad only in his breeches and studying Thor intently. Thor can see the outline of Loki’s cock through the stiff leather of his pants. Thor suddenly feels compelled to continue speaking.

 

“There were times. Times that I felt drawn to you in a way that was… less than brotherly.” 

 

Loki laughs derisively. “Our relationship has never been normal, has it?” He tucks a strand of his long raven hair behind his ear, and Thor licks his lips. 

 

“I have always admired you and loved you, Loki. You doubt me, even now?” 

 

Loki’s pale chest flushes pink and he scoffs. “I never doubt you, Thor. You are always disgustingly earnest in all your endeavours.” 

 

“Disgusting?”

 

“Undress.”

 

Thor frowns but he does as he is told, pulling his armor off and dropping it on the floor with Loki’s clothing. He pulls his own boots off, keeping his eye on Loki’s pale form reclining on the bed all the while.

 

Finally, Thor reaches up and unties the cord that keeps Loki’s breeches up, and shifts them down his hips and thighs, his hard cock springing free and curving against his hip. Thor tosses the pants aside and settles between Loki’s legs, touching the pale expanse of his hips and stomach, the soft plump flesh of his thighs. 

 

Loki shivvers under his touch.

 

“This would have been much faster if I had done it,” Loki whines, and Thor scoffs.

 

“Isn’t it more interesting this way?”

 

“I have no interest in how people get by without magic, honestly, Thor,” Loki says audibly annoyed at Thor’s insistence on being thoroughly tactile in undressing them both. 

 

Then, “Oil.” Loki positions a leg to press his foot into Thor’s side, goading him. Thor moves to get up again. Loki quirks an eyebrow at his brother, surprised. “Oh, have you some handy?”

 

“You forget, this room was the Grandmaster’s.” Thor points to a collection of brightly colored glass decanters. “Seven of those nine bottles are filled with oils.” Thor hops off the bed and retrieves one of the smaller bottles. He lays it on the bed and quickly finishes undressing himself, dropping his breeches on the floor with the rest of their clothes. He climbs back between Loki’s thighs and tips oil into his hand before setting it aside. “I thought they were all liquor.” A pause. “He is a very strange man.”

 

“How - oh - useful,” Loki says, breath hitching between words as Thor slides his hand down between Loki’s legs. 

 

Thor circles Loki’s rim, coating it liberally in oil before he breaches him with one finger. Loki gasps at the intrusion but moans as Thor’s finger sinks to the knuckle inside him, throwing an arm over his eyes.  

 

“Do you know what you’re doing?” he pants. Thor can see the blush’s spread pattern, from Loki’s chest up to his neck and face. His ears have gone pink too, he is sure, even if he cannot see them where Loki has covered his face.

 

Thor smiles. “Yes. I know things.”

 

Loki uncovers his face and looks down at Thor. “Who taught you these things? The Avengers?”

 

“Yes,” Thor answers, and he looks up to see Loki’s reaction - genuine surprise.

 

“You’re joking,” Loki returns, a little breathless, and Thor laughs. 

 

“Yes. Of course I’m joking, You’re not the only one who reads books, brother.”

 

Thor presses a second finger inside Loki along with the first, and watches the way Loki’s hands twist and tighten in the bed sheets as he lets out a muted mewl. Thor works his digits in and out easily, revelling slightly at the sounds Loki makes, and at the obscene heat of his body.

 

Thor pauses in his machinations, and moves to kiss Loki again, pushing his free hand through his brother’s long, dark hair and cupping a hand around the shell of Loki’s ear. Loki moans into the kiss, faint and wanting. Thor pulls back and nuzzles along Loki’s nose, his cheek, his jaw. 

 

“And you, Loki? How long have you wanted this?”

 

Loki arches into Thor’s hand between his thighs.

 

“Longer than I should have,” Loki responds, slightly biting, and his eyes meet Thor’s. His hand comes up to wrap around Thor’s neck, pulling him close and touching their foreheads together. “Fuck me, God of Thunder.”

 

Thor smiles at Loki, at that, and slips his hand free before leaning back onto his heels and reaching for more oil in the small decanter. He pours the liquid into his hand and slicks it over his cock, which he has been ignoring for the last twenty minutes. The warmth pooling in his stomach is pleasantly reignited at the sensation of friction.

 

Thor pushes Loki’s thighs apart and lines himself up. There is a moment, briefly, that causes him to pause and he looks up and into Loki’s eyes. 

 

Loki’s hand comes forward and presses against his chest, over his heart. His voice has taken on an almost ethereal quality. “Thor.” 

 

Thor presses on, sliding himself inside Loki, inch by inch. Loki takes him easily, which makes Thor wonder, briefly, about those unspoken and unacknowledged emotions he hid, that they both hid from one another. He can feel his brow furrowing in concentration, then he feels Loki’s hand on his cheek. It surprises him out of his thoughts, and his gaze meets Loki’s once more.

 

“Thor. Focus,” he says and Thor nods, pressing on until he is fully inside Loki. When he stops, they both exhale and Loki actually laughs a little. 

 

Thor leans forward and kisses Loki on the mouth, hands planted firmly on the backs of his thighs as he does it. Loki groans and shifts against him, heels kicking into Thor’s shoulders as he does. 

 

Thor pulls back then and pushes forward again, testing a rhythm, and pressing his fingertips into Loki’s milk-white thighs. 

 

When Thor looks down he sees Loki stroking his own cock, thumbing over the slit and smearing precome down the shaft.

 

“You look incredible,” Thor wonders, unselfconsciously, as he measuredly pushes and pulls against Loki, watching the way he touches himself. 

 

“Yes,” Loki replies before he kicks Thor with his heels again. “Roll over, get on your back.”

 

Thor pauses in his movements, half surprised and half confused. He suddenly feels as if he isn’t going about this correctly. But Thor does as he’s told, pulling out and settling down in the space next to Loki on the bed. He watches as Loki throws a leg over his hips and almost expertly reaches behind himself to grip Thor’s cock. 

 

“You’ve done this before,” Thor huffs, unable to help himself, and reaches out to grab Loki by the hips when he feels Loki guiding him back inside. He rubs his thumbs over the sharp bone that sticks out under his thin skin there.

 

Loki laughs that breathy laugh again, as he finds himself fully seated on Thor’s lap. 

 

“Oh, brother, a boy like me? You’re surprised?” Loki rolls his hips experimentally and Thor feels his eyelids slide shut involuntarily as his eyes roll back from the shock of pleasure rattling up his spine.  _ This is definitely much better. _

 

Thor arches to meet Loki’s hip rolls with thrusts, but finds Loki planting a hand to still him. He sighs instead, groaning deep from in his chest. 

 

“Valkyrie implied that you slept with the grandmaster to get your position in his court,” Thor says carefully. “On Sakaar.”

 

Loki laughs and blows an errant hair away from his face, both hands occupied with gripping Thor’s chest for leverage. “Do you really want to do this right now?”

 

Thor studies him for a moment: eyes closed and ears pink with effort and embarrassment.

 

Thor does not answer. Instead, he grips Loki tight by the hips and flips him over again, pressing him back against the headboard and into the many pillows piled there. Loki sinks his teeth into Thor’s shoulder as a warning but does not try to move from where Thor has caged him against his body and the headboard. 

 

“And if I did?”

 

“Then you did,” Thor responds and snaps his hips against Loki’s.

 

Carefully, Thor reaches up and grabs the headboard with one hand and then slips the other under Loki’s thigh. 

 

“You’re jealous,” Loki purrs from his place under him, and Thor rolls his eye. 

 

“Quiet,” Thor commands, and pulls Loki’s leg up slightly, leveraging against him as he begins to fuck the smaller man against the headboard. Loki yelps and then groans, eyes falling closed in pleasure.

 

“Ah, ah,  _ there _ ,” he says, swatting Thor’s arm and trying to find some purchase in the claustrophobic position Thor has twisted them into.

 

“Where?” Thor coos, pace slowing, fucking shallowly into Loki. “Here?”

 

Immediately and without warning, Loki lashes out and bites him on the arm, drawing blood. 

 

“Loki!” Thor bellows and slows to a stop. “Always?”

 

“Always,” Loki smirks, licking his lips and cackling.

 

Thor pulls out then and Loki groans again, despairing, all the fun in the moment gone at the loss of Thor’s cock inside him. Thor manhandles Loki onto his stomach and grabs him by the hips, lifting them and sliding back inside his ass again. Loki sighs and arches his back, face pressed into the messy sheets.

 

Thor presses his fingers into Loki’s hips so hard he fears he might leave bruises there. But Loki makes no indication that he is being hurt by Thor’s grip. 

 

“‘S good,” Loki murmurs from where his face is pressed against the bedsheets. Finally, he sits up onto his elbows and throws a glance over his shoulder at Thor. “Although, you fuck me like a maiden.”

 

Thor smirks at him and presses on, fucking into Loki. He watches as Loki reaches between his own legs and begins to stroke his own cock. Thor leans forward, his chest fitting against Loki’s back. 

 

“You’ll stay, yes?” he whispers, sliding his own hand from Loki’s hip and to his cock. He pushes Loki’s hand out of the way and begins stroking him in time with his own thrusts. Loki shudders against him and moans.

 

“Yes, I’m staying. Fine. Yes. Fuck - Thor - I’m,” Loki begins speaking faster, voice pitching as Thor fucks into him and strokes his cock. 

 

“Come,” Thor orders, and as if under a spell Loki obeys, arching into Thor’s hand and coming hot over his knuckles. Thor strokes him once, and then twice more before he is satisfied that Loki is wrung dry. His chest is heaving, and Thor wipes his hand off against the sheets before reaching over to Loki’s hair and pushing it away from his face. 

 

“Are you alright?”

 

A beat.

 

“Yes. Finish,” Loki leans back and catches Thor’s lips with his own, licking his way into his mouth before rolling his hips back against him once, lazily.  Thor does not move right away, fearing that when this most intimate thing is finished between them Loki will not be there. 

 

As if he senses Thor’s concern Loki kisses him again. “Come. I’ll stay.”

 

Thor nods, and holds Loki’s hips tightly in place again, fucking into him faster than before, feeling heat and electricity in his stomach. 

 

Thor comes in Loki with a groan, forehead pressed against Loki’s shoulder. He feels as though his bones have gone liquid. He breathes heavily behind Loki, trying to right himself, trying to bring his heart back to a normal rate.

 

Loki hums under him, “The grandmaster was louder.”

 

“Really, Loki?”

 

Loki cackles. 

 

* * *

  
  


It has always been. 

 

Always.

 

Loki.

 

Loki, with his skin like a bowl of cream, sitting in the bright light of a full moon. Loki, with his hair like obsidian. His hair so long now, the longest Thor ever remembers seeing it in all their years together. He combs it in spun-out strokes, making it shine in the ship’s dull, manufactured, light. Thor cannot take his good eye off of him as he watches Loki, laying on his side on the bed, with his head propped up by his hand. He has long been known as vain, having always been more interested in bright colors, especially in gold and emerald, and in glamours to make his skin bright and exquisite. Loki has always courted attention in ways that makes others uncomfortable, or, in the case of their father, unhappy. 

 

Thor watches the way his hands move, like spinning threads on a distaff and speaking spells. He thinks about their mother, adorned in all gold, braiding Thor’s own yellow hair and humming happily.  He thinks of Frigga setting the fine china bowl, inlaid with gold, on the stone steps outside the magnificent shining palace. It is full of pure white cream, smooth on the surface and beautiful as marble. He remembers the way that she would comb Loki’s raven hair with her own gold brush, talking of spells and books, her eyes shining with happiness. 

 

Odin had never seemed very proud of Loki’s interest in  _ Seiðr _ . Thor knows of at least once when he had overheard his mother and father arguing about her doting on him and encouraging his reading spell books and nurturing his proficiency in magic. It was the first time Thor had heard the word  _ Ergi _ and his mother had hissed at him, angrily, “ _ You will not say this!”. _

 

Though, Odin was harder then, more likely to lose his temper and less likely to laugh. He was different - changed - at the end.

 

Loki sets the comb on the table and examines himself in the mirror. What a splendid comfort for two princes, a vanity. He moves back to the bed and folds himself into the blankets again, burrowing down for warmth. 

 

When Thor turns to look at him Loki’s face is obscured by the covers, his striking blue eyes peeking out over the edge. 

 

“You are sulking,” Thor sing-songs, but concern rises like bile inside him. He pulls the covers down slightly from where they cover Loki’s mouth and nose. 

 

Loki does not speak but his hand comes up and touches Thor’s shoulder. He drags his finger across his skin, faintly tracing runes with the pad of his index finger. Thor can tell by the shapes his fingers make, the words he writes, that he is making spell against his skin.

 

“If anything were to happen to me,” he begins, words measured and careful. Thor grabs his hand, taking his fingers in his fist and squeezes once.

 

“Don’t. Loki…” He squeezes Loki’s hand again, trying to convey something he isn’t sure he has the words for. He cannot speak spells and cast glamours like Loki. He wishes he had read more books. 

 

Loki wiggles his fingers from Thor’s grip, smirk knife sharp. He presses his dark hair behind his ear and shakes the locks over one shoulder as he lays on his side. Thor finds his hand hovering foolishly where it was holding Loki’s own, distracted by Loki’s movements, his pale shoulders and the way his thin milk-white skin moves over his collarbones. 

 

“Do you remember the story of Gróa?” Loki asks and Thor rolls his good eye.

 

“A fairy tale? Really?” Thor turns and lays flat on the bed and looks up at the canopy. The Grandmaster’s rooms are all exceptionally decorated, but this one is by far the most decadent.  Thor had not thought he deserved it, but Loki had insisted on it. Thor feels out of place in such a beautiful room. 

 

“Listen to me,” Loki insists, reaching over and grabbing Thor’s too-short hair, tugging it playfully (well, really quite roughly, but Thor tells himself it is playful). 

 

Thor turns to look at Loki again, watching the way his hair falls in an ebony cascade of contrast to his marble complexion.  His fingers itch to touch the soft skin of his neck and shoulders, where his collarbones knit his ribs together over his heart.

 

“Do you remember the story or not, Thor?” Loki asks, quirking a brow, drawing Thor out of his silent reverie. 

 

“It is the one about the witch that helps her son from beyond the grave,” Thor supplies, and smiles. Loki smirks and pats him on the top of his head like a dog. 

 

“Very good,” he says, and Thor revels in the praise. 

 

“She says incantations over him, giving him power and protection for a long journey,” Loki pauses to run his fingers through Thor’s hair again, dragging his nails over his scalp. He considers him for a moment, eyes searching over the other man’s face seriously.  “If you had long hair I would tie nine knots in it to protect you.” Loki tugs the too short strands again gently.

 

“Mother would be so disappointed. She loved my hair,” Thor whispers as Loki’s other hand moves and his fingertips ghost over the eyepatch that he wears now. 

 

“Like spun gold,” Loki confirms as his hand follows the curve of Thor’s cheek to his jaw. 

 

Thor smiles at Loki, feeling as if his face must look bafoonish, but being unable to train his expression. His hands find their way to Loki’s waist, thin and delicate where his hips jut through thin skin. Thor rubs his thumb along the slopes of him, and then up his ribcage tenderly. Loki’s gaze drifts downward, lids falling half-shut over his eyes, dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

 

Thor feels Loki’s body shudder in his hands and he laughs, as quietly as he can. He tugs Loki closer and shifts their bodies together, pressing his knee between the other man’s legs. 

 

Thor presses his lips to Loki’s jaw, and when he turns to meet the kiss Thor pulls back, his mouth hovering centimeters from Loki’s. 

 

“Kiss me, fool,” he murmurs, and Thor laughs again, eyes fixed on Loki’s lips. 

 

“Tell me, Loki,” he whispers, “will you sing songs over me?”

 

Loki does not answer, but instead presses his hands against Thor’s chest and pushes him over and onto his back again, before straddling his hips. He leans forward and draws his index finger across the middle of Thor’s sternum, slowly, deliberately. Loki’s nail feels sharp against his skin, like a warning of something more. Thor’s breath catches in his lungs as he watches his brother’s hand.

 

Loki draws his finger down, down, down until he reaches Thor’s navel and Thor can already feel himself stiffening again. He swallows thickly. Loki smirks at him and leans forward until his lips brush Thor’s ear, hair falling into Thor’s face. He whispers,

 

“I will tie knots inside you, brother.”

 

Thor thinks, for a moment, that he can actually feel the heat of Loki’s magic inside him. The warmth radiating inside his chest, over his bones and heart. He closes his eyes and listens to the sound of Loki’s voice reaching every corner of his interior.

 

Then, Loki bites him.

 

* * *

  
  


“Is it a good idea to go to earth? Is it a good idea to bring me to earth?” 

 

Thor turns to look at Loki. His brother’s eyes are soft and his features betray his thoughts,

 

_ Have our paths met once more? Am I enough for you? _

 

Thor smiles and the knots of magic Loki has left inside him tighten. The incantations feel strong and Thor thinks he couldn’t have anyone else by his side. Thor reaches out and touches Loki’s shoulder, smiles at him.

 

_ You are more than enough. _

 

* * *

  
  


Thor’s boots come down on Midgard. Earth. It is how he remembers it, the yellow sun shining bright on his face.

 

Thor knows Loki’s voice inside him well. Remembers his words on the ship together, twisted in sheets as white as the milk Frigga would leave for the strays in Asgard. Loki’s voice is like a hammer inside him now, pouding the words,

 

_ “The witch told him: ‘Long is the way, long must thou wander, but long is love as well’.” _

 

The knots of magic inside him unwind and Loki’s voice is  _ there _ in his head, just behind his heart where a murmur of something is whispering his other names, secret words and kennings like spells,

 

_ Atli _ , the terrible.

 

_ Hlórið _ i, the loud rider.

 

_ Sönnungr _ , the true one.

**Author's Note:**

> this was literally supposed to be porn for my friends what have i done. also i tried to be as vague as possible wrt infinity war so please no spoilers in the comments if you can help it. also this is technically supposed to be like in canon but i fudged the timeline between the end of the movie and the post credit scene just a smidge thanks.


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